Bokutachi no Himitsu
by Yuki No Namida 13
Summary: Means: Our Secret. Deidara reminisces about that summer two years ago when he developed affections towards his camp counselor, Sasori. It was a time tinged with emotion, deceit, and love. And it was one that would leave him changed, scarred, forever. Yaoi
1. Prologue: Necklace

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto. If I did, so many wonderful characters would not have died.

**Warnings: **20 year old with 16 year old (underage), Shonen-Ai / Yaoi (boy on boy), Possibly more M rated content further in the story, AU

**A/N: **Told in Deidara's POV. It's pretty depressing overall as a story, just so you are warned. But not everything is happy, so it's fitting. I wanted it to be a more realistic, emotional story that you can imagine being possible in real life. With that, let's begin.

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Prologue  
**Necklace**

As I rummage through the mounds of junk within the dim corners my closet, my thoughts overflow with nostalgia. I yearn to go back to the time when I was able to roam freely without fear of encountering you, or someone in your likeness.

Even now, as I am preparing to leave it all behind, to enter the realm that is college, I can't help but remember you. The delicateness of your face, the silkiness of your crimson hair; but more importantly than your physical appearance, the tremors accompanied by your touch, the guilty pleasures that you permitted me to indulge in when I was at my most vulnerable, the emotional support that you supplied me when I thought of nothing but hurt. I think I loved you for that, and I've come to accept that towards the end, I didn't even quite mind the gap between our ages. You did say, after all, that art is eternal, not caring about age or similar oddities, but rather an external expression of the feelings one has inside.

Even though you gave me such happiness then, still I despise you. Every time a thought of you crosses my path, I want to break down where I stand. I can't bear feeling like I do towards you, to feel as if I lost to you. You made it so easy to trust you, to believe that it was safe to let someone within those emotional walls again. And knowing that, you tore them down seemingly without care. You acted to save your own pathetic skin. You must possess a heart as cold as the lifeless puppets you cherish so much.

It's not often that I allow myself to indulge in such resentful thoughts towards you, but today's activities leave me with the bitter aftertaste of what you had done, what _we_ had done. Now, I sit at the entrance to my closet, a crippled mess of my former self, delicately folding clothes into a cardboard box. I try to care for my belongings, similar to the care that you once showed me. But, I will never treat anything like you did that final night. I sigh, reach out to choose another shirt, and notice a thin silver chain dangling beneath it. I then inhale sharply, allowing the conflicting emotions to flash across my face. I didn't think that I still had _your_ necklace, but being the pack rat that I am, it seems inevitable that I would not have discarded it.

My hand falters as I attempt to extract it from under the folds of cloth, but I eventually manage to bring it out. The metal digs slightly into my flesh as I squeeze it in my hand, releasing some pent up frustration. After a moment, I allow my fingers to open, to expose the last piece of tangible evidence I have that you were ever there at all. The final haunting piece of you, but at the same time, the most significant.

I blink away a single tear and it falls onto my hand, but quickly slides off, catching on one of the chain links, and settling there. I've realized that these bitter perceptions of you aren't entirely true. I believe that you honestly cared at one point, and now I can partially accept why you abandoned me. I can't help but wonder though, what did that summer two years ago really mean to you?

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**A/N: **The rest of the story will be like one giant flashback of what happened between them with longer chapters. Reviews are loved, especially helpful tips; and you might want to check out on my profile the one-shots that I am offering (In desperate need of a one shot request). Thank you for reading. -Yuki


	2. Chapter 1: Sanctuary

Chapter 1  
**Sanctuary**

I had attended the camp once before, so it did not come as a surprise when I got the letter in the mail requesting me to join them again. But I can't say that I was overjoyed at the prospect of going. I loved art to no end, and the camp being one that specialized in that, I should have been as ecstatic as I had been the previous year. However, the situation was different.

I was painfully reminded of that as I walked out of the house with my suitcase trailing at my side, and only my mother following close behind me. She seemed to notice the feeling of gloom as I drudgingly put my luggage in the trunk of our car, and buckled my seatbelt with a snail-like pace. She then put her hand on my shoulder, and waited for me to look up at her with sad eyes, before saying, "Your father would have been so proud of you for getting into such a prestigious camp, and for the second year in a row, no less." I nodded, not trusting myself to respond verbally for fear of a choked sob releasing itself from within my throat.

I knew that she was trying to cheer me up, but I wasn't in the mood to hear what my father would have thought of me. If he could have seen me then, or even now, I'm sure that he would be crushed. But, there is no purpose in thinking like that. He is gone and therefore, cannot see what I have become, could not see how much his death tore at my insides, ripping apart my essence, my other half.

"You should try and be more positive when you get there," my mother said from the driver's seat, as if she could hear my depressing thoughts. "Try to make some friends. You need to stop dwelling on what is past." She spoke this in a caring way, for she is a mother who only wants the best for her son. But in my current state, I didn't want to deal with what she had said. Entwined within her words was a sadness that rivaled my own, for she too must have been suffering. Knowing that, I felt even worse, because I was being the selfish one, sulking over my father's death, when I should have been comforting her like she was trying to comfort me.

With my chin resting in my hand, I stared out the window, idly watching the buildings as they passed, and let my mind become blank -- my personal defense mechanism against the depressing thoughts that constantly swirled within my mind. I had realized after the first months of this that allowing my self to think that way only increased my melancholy, so I had learned to push it away, at the cost of becoming a reserved, emotionless shell.

The scenery outside of the vehicle suddenly took a drastic change from the steel and concrete of our hectic city, to a sea of brown. With the heat wave that had arrived earlier that summer, the lush green fields of grass had all been reduced from their former glory to dullness. It felt odd to think this in my empty-shell state, for I was then able to make the connection between the scene and myself. Had I been an author, I might have thought myself poetic.

But, writing is not my trade. I prefer the, although dangerous and often scoffed upon, art that is explosions. A creator such as I is then allowed put his heart and soul into a piece, only to have it disintegrate before his eyes; a fleeting glimpse of beauty. But it holds more meaning that way, for is it then that the artist gets to experience a revelation that his work is not unlike life. We work so hard to make our lives worth living, to believe that we had a purpose in being on this planet other than to waste time. In the end, we are all the same, though. We die. And most likely, we will not be remembered by many. Therefore, that is what art should be, as fleeting and unmemorable as the life that created it.

The car came to slow stop as we rounded the corner and arrived at the camp. I was still looking out the window, and thus noticed that it was not any different from last year. There was the same brown grass covering everything in sight, and the familiar dirt paths that ran around the large area, linking all of the buildings together. I scanned farther ahead and saw the small cluster of wooden cabins in which I would live for the next two weeks. I wondered which one would be mine to share with three others, and what they would be like.

My mother woke me from my daze with a silent tap on the shoulder. We do not speak much, for we usually know what the other is trying to say without wasting words. I understood then that it was time for us to leave the car and sign in at the main office. So, we did just that.

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I walked down one of the dirt paths, and as I did so, I watched as my feet passed in and out of my line of sight. My suitcase dragged behind me, sending a small cloud of dust swirling around my feet. My thoughts lingered on my mother's face as we had said our goodbyes not minutes before.

Her expression had been one of loneliness, for without me in the house, she would constantly be reminded of my father's absence. I wondered if she would relieve herself of the façade of happiness while I was gone; if she would break down as I had so many times. I shook my head, clearing the negative thoughts. I would try to be more positive, just like she had requested of me. It was the least that I could do.

My feet stopped as I now stood in front of a large wooden cabin. I looked up to see a number three engraved on a small metal plaque hanging from the wall. A woman in the office had told me that I would be staying in this building. I cautiously reached out my hand and pushed the door open. There was no doorknob or lock. Was that for encouraged friendliness or a lack of privacy?

I saw light in the room, so I presumed that someone else was already there. I stepped inside to see that my assumption had been correct. "Dei!" a voice exclaimed. My eyes widened in surprise and my mouth fell open slightly. There stood a boy -- though he could be confused for a girl -- with long chocolate brown hair, matching eyes, and a huge smile plastered on his face.

"H- Haku," I managed to stutter. We had been friends the previous summer, and I was shocked to see him at the camp again, let alone in my same cabin. "I thought that you were going to move."

"Change of plans," he said in his cheerfully feminine voice as he skipped across the room to help me with my luggage. He grabbed my suitcase from my limp hands and took it over to the pair of bunks on the right side of the room. I was still trying to get over the wave of emotions that had assaulted me with the sight of him. But, I forced any thoughts down and walked over to assist him with shoving the bag under the lower bunk. "I called dibs on the top one," he said, turning to me with the same smile as before.

I mimicked his expression and chuckled. He was the exact same as last year. Maybe I could enjoy myself more since I had a familiar face, a friend. My grin faltered as I reflected that maybe _he _wasn't that much different, but _I _was. Could I so easily go back to our childish and carefree actions? I quickly resumed my previous look, realizing that I was allowing my thoughts to be apparent on my face.

If he noticed my sudden changes in expression, he didn't show it. Instead, he reached forward to grab my wrist. Standing up, and pulling me up with him, he dragged me out the door. I flinched as his warm hand touched my skin; human contact was something that I had been severely lacking at the time. But it was just Haku, the boy that had been my companion before, so I allowed it. He was always doing something spontaneous and chipper, such as dragging me along with no warning.

After a moment, I noticed that we were straying from the dirt path. I was wearing shorts at the time, and my exposed ankles easily fell victim to the high grass that we were passing through; though it was more of a ticklish feeling than an uncomfortable one. A fresh wave of nostalgia assaulted me as I felt the familiar sensation on my lower legs from the previous summer's adventures. I instinctively let my eyes and mind wander as we continued in silence for a minute or two more. Just a year ago, I would have merrily skipped along side him to our destination, laughing the whole way, not caring where we were going. I wondered then if Haku even had an objective for pulling me off the pathway into the fields, or if he was just wandering aimlessly. I opened my mouth to ask him, but before I could form any words, we stopped as abruptly as we had started.

Haku let go of my arm and stared out into the expanse that was before us with gleaming eyes. I looked around and saw that we were still in the fields, but now there were small pink, blue, and purple flowers surrounding us. Trees encircled the area and it smelled faintly of spring, even though it was summer. Even the grass was still green. I breathed heavily with eyes wide. It was amazing. A movement to my left caught my attention, and I turned to see Haku spinning with his arms held out, head raised to the sky, and an expression of utmost bliss. He continued until he fell to the ground from dizziness. I went over to lie next to him.

We both looked up at the sky full of fluffy white clouds. I realized then that the scenery had a sort of calming effect on me. It felt so good to just lie there, soaking in the beauty of it all. I looked over to Haku. He smiled back at me, and said, "Isn't it pretty?" I nodded. "Don't you remember it?" I turned my head as best as I could with it on the ground to observe our surroundings. I couldn't remember seeing anything like it before. I would have surely known if I had seen something so wonderful before. "The construction last year."

My eyes widened with realization. The previous summer, there had been a small closed off area not far from the camp where construction had taken place day and night. We were forbidden to go over there, and no one had told us what was being done. It seemed only natural that someone as curious as Haku would have gone to see it as soon as he arrived at camp.

We both turned back to face the sky. Then, slight breeze passed by, sending fallen leaves and petals swirling around us. I smiled, sincerely, for the first time in months, as the sweet smell of the flowers engulfed my senses. We stayed there for almost an hour, in silence, taking in the miracle that was there. I felt that maybe this summer might actually be okay. I might be able to forget my worries at least for the two weeks. I might even be able to go back home to show my mom a true smile. I didn't know then how very wrong I was.


End file.
